The Hobbit: A Collection of Original Imaginations
by Aseph
Summary: Writings, ideas, and story lines for original characters.
1. Diamond Scale and the White Rider

Suddenly, a shadow flashed across the full moon in an instant, and disappeared. An unexpected gush of air descended upon the company of Thorin Oakenshield. As they all felt the wind on their faces, they looked into the sky, all wondering what could have cast such a large shadow upon the moon.

"There is a legend about that. A legend that has been told all across middle earth about that very shadow I know you are all inquiring about." Gandalf said calmly.

"A legend?" Dori asked curiously.

"It's more of a myth," said Thorin. "I've heard it before."

"Heard what before?" Ori asked.

They all gathered around Gandalf, eagerly waiting to hear a new legend about middle earth. And as Gandalf began to speak, the fire began to calm itself, crackling, and cooling.

"Long ago, a Dwarf king, called Frer, fell in love with Elvish peasant."

Kili suddenly looked up into Gandalf's eyes. Gandalf looked back kindly. There was a slight pause before he continued.

"Frer loved the elf, true, but the two races have long since been unable to get along. They met in secret for years, until the king was unable to hide the affair. Soon a child was born to the peasant. The child was not accepted by the dwarfs and was considered an abomination by the woodland elves. After threats of war, the child was banished to the cold sea."

"The cold sea? I've never heard of anyone even traveling there before." Dori added.

"Yes, and this child had no one. She was alone in a barren ice land. Until, a large winged creature came out of the sea."

"A dragon?" They all asked.

"Perhaps. It is said that every dragon is a dark creature, created by the dark-lord Sauron. But this dragon was white, and no one can explain how it came to be. Its scales were made of pure diamonds. The good dragon cared for the child, and the child cared for the dragon. Legend has named the two: Diamond Scale and the White Rider."

"What does she look like?" Asked Fili with stars in his eyes.

"It is said that she wears white armor. She is short as a dwarf, but with eyes, hair, and wisdom of an elvish woman. During war, peacekeepers pray to her. She stands for peace among the dwarfs and the elves, even though both races banished her."

"Didn't her mother want to keep her?" asked Kili.

Suddenly an unfamiliar voice chimed in from behind the rocks and spoke: "Her mother was banished and killed."

It was Legolas, and with him stood Tauriel, trying not to make eye contact with Kili. They both sat down uncomfortably around the fire. Legolas continued,

"It's not a myth or a legend. Luna was the daughter of my father's first love."

"Luna. Yes, that is what they call her." Said Gandalf.

"Interesting. So according to you, Luna's mother chose a dwarf king over Thranduil." Kili said arrogantly.

He looked directly at Legolas. Embarrassed, and wanting to avoid confrontation, Tauriel looked away. Legolas argued back,

"No matter how much my father loved her, he could not marry a peasant."

Tauriel looked at Legolas, obviously hurt.

Legolas continued, "And it is very unfortunate – a child of an elf and a dwarf must be unbearably hideous."

"And why is that?" Gloin demanded angrily.

"You all clearly do not understand the whole purpose of this story." Gandalf shouted. "Luna is a protector and defender of _peace_." Gandalf sighed. "I'm not going to continue with this story tonight."

Disappointed, the company of dwarves groaned and finished their supper.

Soon the whole company calmed themselves and went about setting themselves up for the night. Bilbo anxiously looked up at the full moon hoping to see another shadow. Fili and Kili chuckled to themselves and discussed what this dragon rider possibly looked like.

"Gandalf," Thorin spoke softly, "This dragon rider - could she really exist?"

"She could very well be a real creature on this earth. Perhaps if we keep our eyes open, you could meet her someday. However, I would not risk asking king Thranduil about his past." Gandalf smiled.

War was in full raging chaos. Elves were scattered lifeless on the ground as orcs raged forward to finish off the last of Dane's warriors. Thorin looked to Dane with panic in his eyes. Bilbo and Gandalf looked down on the battlefield, searching for a miracle. Swords and axes flew through orc after orc, and there seemed to be no end.

In a stunning instant the heat of the sun was covered. And it was no cloud that blocked the rays of the sun. Every creature seemed to look to the sky. In one heart racing moment, a giant white creature dove down from the sky, swooping across the battlefield, shooting a wall of ice on the ground, separating the dwarfs from the orcs. After a brief pause, the enemy began clutter against the wall of ice. Angrily, the orcs slammed their weapons against the cold barrier. The dragon flew seamlessly through the sky, making tight turns and shooting white mist down at the enemy. When the mist cleared, there was nothing remaining but ashes.

Arrows began to fly towards the dragon-rider. As they did, the rider began to stand on the back of dragon and shoot arrows back. Every force began to rally with the new strength this unidentified ally gave them. Thranduil took the elven army up to the City and barricaded the townsfolk in safely. Tauriel and Kili hunted down the remaining dangerous orcs.

After the pale orc fled behind the lonely mountain, Thorin and his company returned to find their kin, the elves, and the humans had all survived. The grounds and hills were all covered in sharp spikes of ice and orc ashes. Diamond-Scale and her rider flew high in the sky looking for other groups that might attack, when she found nothing remained she slowly glided back to doors of Thorin's newly reclaimed treasure-filled mountain.

The dwarfs, Thorin and his company, Bilbo, and Gandalf, looked for the creature that saved them from countless casualties, and stopped the war. The diamond-scaled white dragon slowly landed in front of the elves, and dwarfs.

One small creature sat upon the neck of the gargantuan dragon. The dragon bowed its head, somehow looking everyone in the eye, and as it did so, the rider dismounted. The rider's face and head were covered with white cloth and slowly walked forward. She pulled the hooded cape off her head and untied the mask around her face. Dark curls, and waves of hair fell down her back as she approached Gandalf. The entire grounds fell silent.

"Diamond Scale and the White Rider." Dane said in astonishment.

Thranduil had a look of anger, longing, and sadness all mixing together in his eyes. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

Luna ran to Gandalf as the wizard gathered her up in his arms.

"You've just saved us from almost certain death, Luna."

She only shook her head in disagreement. Luna smiled at the elven king, and the dwarf king and turned to leave. She looked her dragon in the eye, patted her nose and smiled. "Take us home," she whispered.

Thorin was breathing heavily, still in shock that this legend existed, and still in disbelief that the battle had been won. He looked at the silent, short, dwarfish, elvish woman in angry befuddlement.

"You're leaving?! You're just going to leave?! Fly away and pretend that this never… that you didn't… You can't! You can't just not say a word!" He yelled.

Luna turned slowly and looked at Thorin. An uneasy and still silence fell.

"Gandalf, can she speak?" Asked Bilbo.

"Yes." She answered and walked to Bilbo.

"I always knew hobbits had courage." She smiled kindly.

She then walked towards Thorin and bowed her head.

"I apologize. The new king under the mountain does not deserve to be dismissed so rudely." Luna said.

Thorin could only look upon her face, but he said nothing.

Another awkward silence fell.

Gandalf broke the tension. "I'm sure Thorin and his company would wish to thank you for your assistance today my lady."

"Yes! Stay! We'll have a feast!" Fili and Bofur grabbed her arms excitedly.

Balin pried them off her and led her inside. "You'll have to tell us all about yourself, lassy." He said with his usual charm.

Smiling and laughing they all went inside the mountain, Luna agreeing timidly.

Thranduil stayed behind with Legolas and his army to make camp for the night. The anxiety and sadness on king Thranduil's face could not be hidden as he watched her go into the mountain.


	2. Stolen Goblin Treasure

The company of Thorin Oakenshield was awoken suddenly in the middle of the night, as the floor began to fall beneath them.

"Wake up! Wake up!" Thorin yelled.

But it was too late. The dwarves and the hobbit fell rapidly and slid down the tunnels of the mountain – bewildered, screaming, and frightened.

They were dumped unceremoniously into a trapping cage, the smell of goblins reeking in the air. All at once a hoard of disgusting goblins ran at them, grabbing and shoving. The group was pushed and led down bridge after bridge.

"Get off!" Dwalin yanked his arm away from the creatures.

But there were too many goblins surrounding them for anyone to escape. Or so they thought. Nori noticed as Bilbo ducked, and by great fate or dull coincidence, he was left behind.

The thirteen dwarves were led to the heart of the goblin tunnels, where a giant, nine-foot-tall, gargantuan goblin sat upon his throne. To left of his chair made of old bones, sticks, and teeth, sat a young, feminine creature. She sat upon a pile of wood covered in one old rug. She leaned against a fur backboard - uninterested. She was no goblin, to be sure. Rather, she was lovely. With short curly hair, bright green eyes, and a sad, loathsome expression on her face. A large iron ring sat round her neck, connected to chains that looped to more iron rings on her wrists connected to the throne so she could not run away. She was small, almost 5 feet shorter than the goblin king she sat next to. She did not seem to stir or be bothered by the commotion approaching her.

The hoard stopped on the platform where the king and his slave sat. The dwarves were stripped of their weapons, the goblins throwing them at the feet of the giant king.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" he demanded with a horrible voice. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins!?"

"Dwarves, your malevolence!" A tiny, wart-ridden goblin spoke.

The tiny female slave suddenly sat upright, chains clanking, so she could see who the dwarves were. She sat wide eyed, looking at the thirteen of them hopefully.

"Dwarves?!" the giant goblin yelled in disbelief.

The goblin king ordered for them to be searched in every crack and every crevice. Some dwarves began to protest, while some stared dumbfounded at the female creature in chains.

"What are you doing in these parts?" The goblin king asked sarcastically.

None of the dwarves spoke. A secretive silence fell in the caves.

"Help. Me." The curly haired girl mouthed to none of the dwarves in particular.

"Very well! If they will not talk, we will make them squawk! Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone breaker! Start with the youngest!"

Goblins began cheering as the dwarves began to yelp in protest. The goblin king turned tenderly to his slave, smiling, caressing the side of her face gently with one wart-covered finger, and cooing at her softly. She grimaced and turned her head away in disgust.

"Wait!" Thorin stepped forward from behind his comrades.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror. King under the mountain," the fat Goblin bowed mockingly. "Oh! But I'm forgetting! You don't have a mountain. You're not a king. Which makes you… nobody really. I know somebody who would pay a pretty price for your head. Not a body, just a head. Perhaps you know of who I speak? An old enemy of yours? The pale orc - "

"Was destroyed in battle long ago!" Thorin interrupted.

The goblin king chuckled and sent orders to send word to the pale orc. "Tell him, we have found his prize," he laughed again, turning to his slave.

The giant, horrid creature broke into song. Yelling at the top of his lungs threats to mangle and kill the dwarf company. Suddenly a goblin mercenary cried in horror, throwing a sword on the ground.

"I know that sword!" Cried the goblin king. "It is the Goblin-Cleaver! The blade that sliced a thousand necks! Slash them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut of his head!"

The crooked creatures rushed towards the dwarves, slamming them on the ground, and pulled out their weapons. The curly haired girl stared in horror as time seemed to slow down. And just as a knife was about to cut into the young dwarf king, a pure white light flooded the cave. A tangible pulse could be felt as it swam through the air, sending a gush of wind. It knocked the king off his feet, slamming him to the ground. Many of the goblins were whisked away, falling off the edge of the platform to their deaths. The gush of power hit the curly haired female hard on the back, breaking the throne, and sending her rolling down her pile of wood, her hands still bound by chains.

"Take up arms," A deep voice rumbled and echoed through the caves. "Fight," Gandalf called. "Fight!"

Quicker than the young girl could open her eyes, the dwarves were already rallying and fighting the goblins, killing them off one by one faster than she could count.

"He wields the Fohammer!" The goblin king cried in horror. The giant turned suddenly and crawled on his belly. He began attempting to grab desperately at the young girl's wrists. "You're not going anywhere! You're mine!" he hissed at her.

"No! Help!" She moaned pathetically as she tried to wriggle away.

The giant found his footing and scooped her up by the bicep. With his free hand he grabbed his staff, ornamented with a ram's skull and swung down at the dwarf king.

"Thorin!" Fili shouted in warning.

Thorin deflected the swing with his sword, and with his free hand grabbed the young girl by her other bicep as the goblin king stumbled and slipped, falling off the edge of the platform. Thorin and the girl were yanked forward by the momentum but did not fall. The two regained their footing and breathed heavily. The young girl turned towards the dwarf with wide eyes. He released the firm grip on her bicep. Without another breath the curly headed female turned on her heal and began sprinting away.

"Wait. Wait, stop!" Thorin yelled after her.

"Quickly! This way!" Gandalf yelled at them all.

Thorin hesitated briefly, but followed after.

For what seemed like ages the wizard and the thirteen dwarves ran down the trails, killing goblins that did not seem to have an end. Working together ran down a final bridge, when the goblin king burst through the underneath of the wood.

"You thought you could escape me!" the goblin king shouted as he and his minions surrounded the group. "Return my slave and pray for your lives!" He yelled as he swung his weapon at the wizard.

In a tremendous effort of bravery, Gandalf swiftly slew the disgusting giant. But to their dismay, the king's heavy body broke the wood of the bridge, sending the company plummeting down into the cliffs of the mountain. The bridgework slid down the mountain with the dwarves clinging on for dear life when they finally slammed into the ground.

"Well, that could've been worse," Bofur sighed.

The goblin king's body suddenly dropped on the lot of them.

"Oh, you've got to be joking," Dwalin groaned.

But none of them were able to catch their breath.

"Gandalf!" Kili yelled in horror.

An army of goblins were running at them. Too many to fight. The group was in mortal peril yet again.

"Only one thing can save us now! Daylight! On your feet!" Gandalf cried as they ran.

The dwarves and their wizard made their way through the tunnels, running and breathing heavily. By miracle, they made their way into the lush nature outside the mountain, Gandalf counting exhaustedly, making sure each member was intact. Each was accounted for, except for one.

"And Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?" Everyone began looking around. "Where is our hobbit?!"

"Curse the Halfling! Now he's lost?" Dwalin said.

The group began arguing about who saw him last, desperately searching for answers. Thorin spoke up, accusing Bilbo of never wanting to be a part of the company.

"…he is long gone!" Thorin spat.

Bilbo suddenly appeared to everyone's relief, however ignoring everyone's inquires as to how he escaped the goblins.

"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. That's why I came back, 'cause you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

Gandalf leaned on his staff and sighed, forever amazed at the courage of hobbits. When suddenly, his eyes widened.

"Thorin," he turned to the dwarf king, "Where is the other hobbit?"

"Other hobbit?" Fili furrowed his eyebrows.

"Who, Gandalf?" Nori said.

"So she was a hobbit," Thorin stated outloud.

"Who? No I'm here, I'm the hobbit and I'm a…a him." Bilbo tried to correct.

"The young creature that was chained up!" Bofur said. "She called for help before you showed up Gandalf."

"Yes and where is she?!" Gandalf exclaimed. "What happened, Thorin?"

"She ran," Thorin said.

"Why!" Gandalf said in disbelief.

"I don't know!" Thorin yelled. There was a long pause as the dwarves sighed. Surely she must be dead they all thought to themselves, looking down. Bilbo looked utterly bewildered. "I don't know," he said again quietly.

A soft, feminine, almost squeaky voice called out from behind the trees.

"Here. I'm… I'm here!" Small hobbit feet stepped out from behind the pine trees. The dark, curly-haired hobbit began walking unsurely towards the dwarves. Her green eyes glinted in the setting sun. She was dressed in rags, barely covering her breasts and a small fur skirt wrapped around her lower half. The iron ring still wrapped tightly around her neck. Her hands were also bound in chains and clinked as she walked forward.

Balin shook himself out of his stupor and purposely stepped on a few others' feet to shake them out of their awe as well. He acted quickly and pulled a blanket from his bag and ran up to the young hobbit, wrapping the fabric around her shoulders to protect her modesty.

"My! There are hobbits simply popping out of nowhere today!" Balin jested, trying to ease the tension and fear. "Uhm, uh, yes, Gandalf, do you think you could possibly remove these irons?"

Even the wise wizard had to blink a few times and come to his senses. "Yes, excuse me," he walked to the young girl. Gandalf whispered a small spell to his staff and pressed it to the young girl's iron cuffs. They sizzled for a moment, and unbuckled, releasing the hobbit from her chains. The irons fell to the ground. The marks, however, red and scabbed, remained on her skin. The wizard looked into her eyes with pity.

"You're a hobbit then?" Bilbo spoke up.

"Yes." She replied softly.

Another silence followed. The group waited for her to say more.

"You're not from the Shire." Bilbo deducted.

"I come from the Gladden Fields," she said.

"Do you have a name?" Thorin asked rather coldly.

The young hobbit girl stared blankly forward for a moment, and opened her mouth as though she was about to speak, but closed her mouth and thought hard for another moment. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Well?" Thorin asked impatiently.

"Matilda!" She said suddenly. "Til… Tilly!"

The dwarves looked at each other in befuddlement.

"They called me Tilly," the hobbit said lowering her head in embarrassment.

"How did you come to be chained in such a lowly place?" Gandalf asked. He spoke slowly, his words dripping with concern.

"Who are you?" Thorin asked with even more impatience. He seemed annoyed.

Tilly kept her head bowed but looked up at Thorin, clutching the blanket around her shoulder.

"I am nobody. I'm. . . I'm nothing," she whispered.

Thorin looked away, not able to keep eye contact.

Tilly continued, "I'm but a daughter of a merchant. We were attacked on the road. He was killed. I was taken, and sold to the goblins."

"How long have they kept you in there?" Bilbo asked.

"I don't know," Tilly replied.

Thorin straightened his back, and lifted his chin. "Well. You're free now. Come on lads, let's go,"

"Thorin!" Gandalf and Balin both said in unison, protesting.

"What? Are we to sit about, having heart-to-hearts with strangers, or are we to finish this quest?" He replied indignantly. "We do not have the time nor room to accommodate a female on this journey."

Bilbo walked to Thorin and spoke softly so the young Halfling could not hear.

"We can't just leave her out here in the wild, the goblins will catch her, or she'll die of exposure," Bilbo stated matter-of-factly.

"She is not my concern," Thorin hissed. He looked back at Balin, who was still holding the young Halfling under his arm.

"Please, don't leave me here," Tilly looked at Thorin with pleading eyes.


	3. Fairy's Berries

I was suddenly grabbed by my arms on either side. I instantly began to squirm and struggle, but a large hand covered my mouth before I could yelp or make any noises.

I was thrusted into a dark room of the inn, and painfully landed on my knees, before I could catch my breath, I was lifted to my feet again. Both my arms were still being restrained by large hands.

The hood of my cloak covered my eyesight a bit, but I could count 13 pairs of large boots, and 1 pair of hobbit feet. The room of the inn was almost pitch black, but a small light was glowing from the fireplace. A figure loomed over the hearth, and began to speak.

"You've been following us for two days. Without discretion, I might add. If you were going to have the audacity to follow us, you should have at least been a bit more subtle about it. Who are you?"

The low voice rumbled from the corner of the room, sending shivers down my spine.

"Who are you?" a different voice demanded and ripped the hood of my cloak from off my head.

Thirteen chests gasped inwardly in unison. The voice that had been addressing me belonged to a young, handsome, dwarf. His eyes widened at the sight of me, but then settled into a soft glare.

He looked me up and down. His question changing;

" _What_ are you?"

The grips on my arms loosened tremendously. To my left was a large, tattooed dwarf, and to my right a large, red-headed dwarf.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice shaking, "I can promise I mean none of you any harm whatsoever,"

The two dwarves holding my biceps let go of me completely and started laughing out loud.

A dwarf on the side of the room laughed hard and wiped a tear from his eye, "You? Harm us? Ha-ha!"

But the dark haired dwarf, who seemed to be in charge, was not laughing. An older dwarf, with a long white beard, stopped chuckling and walked towards me.

"Go home, young lass, little-ns like you should not be out so late at night," he put a hand on my shoulder and began to shoo me out of the room.

"Wait!" yelled the dark haired dwarf. "You did not answer my question! What are you?"

He stepped in front of the white bearded dwarf and grabbed me by my wrist, pulling me towards him. Carefully, he examined me up and down.

"You're much too short to be an elf," he stated as he looked at my feet and pulled my hair behind my small ears. "And you're not a hobbit. You have no beard, and you look like you could be snapped in half like a twig, so I'll assume you're no dwarf," The group chuckled in agreement. The handsome dwarf looked into my eyes and squinted, "Nor are you from the race of men,"

"Oh leave her be," said the hobbit in a reprimanding tone. "Just let her be on her way."

"No. It matters. I want to know who she is and more importantly why she was following us," the leader said, concerned.

I cleared my throat, hoping they would let me speak.

"I'm only looking for Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey? Folks are saying he's been seen travelling among a company of thirteen dwarves and one hobbit. I just thought he might be with you," there was a small pause. "You see, I have an injury. An injury that I fear can only be cured by magic, and I can't seem to fix it myself. Really any wizard would do, even Rhadagast if you can tell me where to find him. I'd even venture out to find that elven witch, Lady Glan – um, Lady Ganlad – Lady Lang –"

"Lady Galandriel?" the hobbit finished my sentence helpfully.

"Yes! That's the one! Really anybody who knows healing magic. I'm just trying to find some help, I thought Gandalf would be the closest wizard and I could find him the fastest –"

The leader impatiently interrupted my babbling, "Stop! What injury do you have that so desperately needs the attention of magic? You look perfectly healthy to me,"

"My wing is broken," I replied sadly.

"Your what?" fourteen voices chimed in unison.

"Wing?" The leader asked skeptically.

I whipped my heavy wool cloak away from my arms and untied the button at the neck, taking the cloak off completely. One of my wings flexed upright, fluttering gently; magically. The other tried, but the top of the wing was broken, and limped down pathetically, struggling to flicker in unison with the healthy wing.

The group of dwarves stared dumbfounded, their mouths gaping wide open. The oldest dwarf spoke: "Bless my beard,"

"You're a pixie!" the hobbit deducted.

"What, no!" I protested. "Pixies are a nasty business. They're blue, with beady little black eyes, and long slithery fingers with long nails," I shivered. "They're always stealing things. No. No, no, no. No, sir. I - I am a fairy." I stood upright.

"I've heard of fairy-stories, yes. But faires?" The tattooed dwarf exclaimed.

I scrunched my eyebrows together. "You are dwarves! You're a hobbit! You have wizards, elves, goblins, ghost, ghouls, and _trolls_ for heaven's sake! And none of you have met a fairy before?"

"I didn't think they were real!" the hobbit stressed.

"Oh we are very real, we're just hard to find. You see fireflies are about this big – " I made a small measurement with my thumb and pointer finger, "And fairies are just slightly bigger –" I made a similar measurement with my other hand. "You see? And that is another problem, I can't seem to go back to my regular size, I feel like a giant!"

This was an amusing statement, since I stood a foot shorter than the Halfling, and he himself stood a foot shorter than the dwarves.

The dwarves looked at each other as if they were dreaming. The dark haired leader did not look amused.

"You're magical, then? Like a wizard?" one of the group asked me.

"No! Not like a wizard at all! I'm not a powerful being. But I do know a few spells," I began to list them: "Sleeping spells, sweet dream spells, strawberry spells!"

"Strawberry spells?" The hobbit asked.

"I can grow a strawberry on any land, anywhere you like! Raspberries too, I think."

"Prove it," a young, blonde dwarf challenged.

I walked to the corner of the room and grabbed a small potted plant. Rather abruptly, I removed the plant and hovered my hand above the pot of dirt, snapping my fingers once. The pot began to shake ever so softly, until a green stem burst through the dirt. The stem grew and grew until vines burst from either side, twisting and turning. One vine bloomed a small green flower, and beneath it grew a red, perfectly shaped strawberry. I waited for it to get rather large, then plucked it from the vine.

The room fell silent and nothing could be heard but the crackling of the fire.

I handed it to the young blonde dwarf.

"Taste it," I offered sweetly.

The blonde headed dwarf smiled kindly and reached out to grab it, when suddenly the leader smacked his arm away, hard.

"Do not eat that!" he ordered. "We do not know this creature. That berry might as well be poison!"

My arm still outstretched, I gingerly retreated. The dwarf leader glared down at me, frowning. I light bulb went off in my head. I could feel the expression on my face change from a frightened frown to a smirk as I took a step towards him. He did not move, but continued to glare as I stepped forward until I was no more than 2 inches away from him. We stood chest to chest. I stared at up his icy blue eyes, which were begging to turn soft with confusion.

Without breaking eye contact, I bit into the berry. Everyone could almost hear as my teeth sunk into the red fruit. The dark-haired dwarf's eyes widened ever so slightly, but he didn't break eye contact either. Still chewing I smiled up at him, my eyes twinkling with mischief.


End file.
